And Then There Was Scott
by Pinkchick
Summary: Sometimes, life just happens. Boredom is overrated anyway.


**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own a thing.

**Author's Note:** Apparently I lied about taking a hiatus with X-men stories. This was bugging me until it was written. It takes place shortly after _Day of Recovery_ and _Mainstream_, but before any of the other episodes. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

**Characters:** Mainly Scott, but everyone makes an appearance.

**Summary:**Sometimes, life just happens. Boredom is overrated anyway.

**____________________________**

**And Then There Was Scott**

**By: Pinkchick **

**_________________**

Scott Summers was having the worst day of his life. The worst day to end a really bad week. And he'd had bad days before. The day the world had discovered mutants walked among them had been on the top of his list… but today was coming dangerously close to knocking it back.

At least, the "worse" being defined had nothing to do with Magneto, or the Sentinels, or God forbid Mystique and the Brotherhood. Scott shuddered at the thought. No, the week had been more or less average. Whatever average was to anyone anyway. There were Danger Room sessions, school, papers to write, books to read.

Blah, blah, blah.

Scott had been dreading the week to begin with. He had sighed and thought it would be another boring week at school. Another week in the Danger Room. Another week working up the nerve to ask Jean out on a date. Another week his conscience had taunted him about being brave enough to take on evil, but couldn't even ask his best friend to go out with him. It was pathetic.

Scott shook his head. And that was just the usual. The week had gone nothing like he'd planned. Nothing.

Monday had started off routine enough. Except when he fumbled in the Danger Room, tripping over Kurt's tail and landing with an _umph_ as his face made friends with the floor.

Scott never fumbled. It was why he spent extra hours in the Danger Room to begin with. Nothing said perfection like practice.

On the way to school, his car started swerving because the tire had gone flat. He had been forced to slam the brakes and spent the next hour changing the tire. It was an inconvenience all his friends had decided to go in Jean's car, which was unusual in itself.

Oh, it had also begun to rain. He had gotten to school late, wet, and pissed off.

The teacher had glared at him when he walked in, handed him a detention slip and, without hesitation, continued to discuss the project he'd assigned. It was due on Friday.

It was Thursday. He hadn't even started.

The weather had continued to mimic his mood the entire week. Cold winds, cold rain, and cold, cruel world.

Scott slammed his locker shut. Harshly. The ugly piece of metal dented and refused to close. He unceremoniously dumped his things onto the ground and cursed, loud enough for the school librarian to give him an admonishing look. Scott didn't even spare her a glance as he glared violently at his locker, growled, and swung it closed. He kept his hand there to make sure the stupid thing would stay that way.

Satisfied, he walked drunkenly to his car, ignoring any and all the stares he knew he was getting. Not surprisingly, his car was the last one in the parking lot. His friends had gone home without so much as saying a word to him.

That didn't surprise him either. They had been ignoring him and giving him the cold shoulder all week. Even Jean. Maybe it was because he was finally losing it. They couldn't afford a leader who was clumsy, oversleeping and had been having the worst kind of any luck anyone could ever have.

Yeah, that was probably it. Scott Summers was becoming incapable to keep even the simplest things under control. God, what was _wrong_ with him?

It didn't really bother him. At least, he told himself that it didn't bother him. It made him feel better and less alone than he had ever felt before. Even when he had been at the orphanage.

Scott mustered a small smile as he reached his car. "At least it's in one piece," he muttered.

Tuesday he'd had to get it towed because it overheated on his way back from school. After he'd taken a test he'd forgotten to study for. After his math teacher had handed him his homework back with a large red F marked on the front.

That same night, insomnia decided to strike and Scott didn't get a wink of sleep.

Wednesday morning, he failed to pay any attention to what Logan had been talking about. As a result, he disregarded the rules of the practice session, missed a sharp, flying object headed his way, and practically ran over an unsuspecting Kitty on his way to his recent meetings with the floor.

His visor had been pushed off by said flying object and if it weren't for his quick reflexes or Kitty's phasing…. Well, it was good to know Professor Xavier had the money to repair the brunt through walls.

That morning, Logan had stopped the Danger Room session early, obviously foreseeing a mishap on Scott's part. He was surprised the gruff man hadn't lectured him yet for his sheer klutziness the past few days. _That_ was usually Kitty's department.

After the morning session, Scott had been changing when his head decided his locker hadn't been partial to anything. No, he was putting his pants on when they became stubborn and wouldn't go all the way up. Yanking on them as hard as he could, Scott's head shot up and slammed into the locker's edge. It sent him reeling backwards.

Kurt had teleported before Scott's swaying form could inflict any harm on him. He ended up on the floor, pants halfway up, inhaling sulfur and brimstone.

He'd tripped over untied shoelaces at lunch, causing a few students to ram into his back with their lunch trays. When he had looked up, Scott's friends were looking at him with an expression he couldn't quite place. Having caught them in the act, they had pointedly turned away.

Scott had hung his head and taken his lunch to a back table in the corner where he ate in silence.

His car stuttered before starting and he rolled out of the parking lot without further incident. He was in no rush to go home and sit in solitary, but there was no one on the road so he sped up.

The quiet was becoming too much for his aggrieved brain and pessimistic thoughts kept creeping in. Scott, annoyed with his own brain's betrayal, leaned over and turned on the music. Loud.

_How the hell'd we wind up like this? Why weren't we able? To see the signs that we missed…._

Great. Even the music wasn't helping his gloomy mood. His foot pressed further onto the accelerator. The sooner he got home, the sooner he could busy himself with something other than sulking.

A flash of red and blue garnered his attention to the rearview mirror. There was a police car trailing behind him. Scott cursed lowly and pulled over to the side of the road. Now he was truly annoyed.

Rolling down his window, Scott smiled. "Problem, Officer?" he asked innocently.

The cop in question was a sturdy man, a frown on his face and a buzz cut gracing his head. "Do you know how fast you were going, young man?"

Scott shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really, no."

The officer gave him a surprised look as though the question he had previously asked had been rhetorical. Scott rolled his eyes, glad for the cover of his ruby quartz glasses.

The officer cleared his throat and leaned down so he and Scott were on the same level. Eye to eye. Or rather, ruby to eye. Whatever best suited the situation.

"You were going sixty five in a forty five mile zone," the officer, whose nametag read Oscar Bologna, paused and looked at him sharply. "Do you know how dangerous that is?"

Scott glanced at the nametag again, stifled a laugh he hadn't heard in a week, and bit his lip. "Well, there was nobody on the road. No harm, no foul, right?"

"You tryin' ta be funny, kid?" Bologna scowled.

He almost sounded like Logan minus the sideburns and pointy hair.

"No, sir, I'm not." Scott clamped down harder on his lip and held back a sigh. Traffic cops were a strange sort. Scott felt they tried to bully you rather than enforce the law, just because they could. It was a waste of time. He needed to go home and start his project, not have a stare down with some cop whose parents decided to get creative at birth.

"Good, cause you're gettin' a ticket," he informed Scott.

"You can't just give me a warning. It's only the first time," Scott pleaded uselessly. It was like talking to a wall. Jean would've probably gotten dramatic about it, or Kitty would've pouted and shed a tear. He… he had nothing.

Bologna pursed his lips and motioned forward with his fingertips. "License and registration, please."

Scott sighed and leaned over to open the glove compartment. Finding what he was looking for, he closed it and slapped the materials into Bologna's waiting hand.

By the time he got home, all the students were doing their extracurricular activities. The officer hadn't been kind in the least. Bologna had slapped him with a hundred and fifty dollar fine for speeding in what he called an "almost" residential area.

It was all just a bunch of bologna. For the first time that week, Scott smirked.

"The smile has returned, I see." Scott startled at the familiar voice. His face went back to its blank mask.

"Hey, Storm," Scott greeted the maternal African woman at his bedroom door. "What, uh, brings you by?"

Scott was practically invisible to the whole institute as of late. He had no idea why Storm would come by now, even if she was the one who always warmed his food in the microwave after everyone had already eaten their dinner.

"I was just passing through." Storm smiled. She looked about to say something more, but didn't. "You just seem so… stressed lately." A pause sounding like she was contemplating her next sentence. "I just wanted to make sure you're… that you feel alright."

Scott grimaced. "Yeah," he said curtly. "I'm fine."

He raised his eyebrow at her words and at her stumbling speech. He'd practically grown up with this woman. Storm had never, in all the years Scott had known her, stuttered through a sentence.

"Good. That's… good." Storm placed her hand on the door jam, her eyes thoughtful and full of an emotion he had never seen in her eyes before. "You should not stress over the small things when you should be looking at the bigger picture."

He was slightly confused at the message. Was she trying to give him advice? "No stress, got it." Scott offered a small smile and turned halfway back to his project. The one he still hadn't started.

Storm gave a tight smile and dropped her hand. "Dinner will be at six." It sounded forced. "I will let you get back to your homework." Scott nodded and Storm walked away as silently as she'd come.

Scott tried to hide a wince. Dinner _was_ usually at six. It seemed with the dreaded week he'd been having, everyone decided to eat their dinner earlier than usual. He turned back to his project and wondered how he would start it.

Scott ended up pulling an all-nighter and fell asleep around four thirty in the morning. He shuffled into the kitchen haphazardly later that morning only to find everyone already gone and Professor Xavier reading the newspaper at the table. Before he could hold his tongue back, it lashed out.

"Why didn't anyone wake me up?" His tone hard.

Professor Xavier raised an eyebrow above the newspaper. "Scott? You're still here?"

Scott rolled his eyes. The older man was like a father to him, but he was not in the mood for conversations on why he was still home when he had to be at school. His project was due in twenty minutes.

"Uh, yeah, Professor," Scott answered quickly. He grabbed an apple, picked his stuff off the ground, and waved as he walked back out. "I have to go. Big project due and all," he called behind him.

His morning was eventful. Not that Scott had been expecting anything less from the crappy week from hell. His car had barely sputtered to life on his way to school. Scott never neglected his car, but he'd been busy. He reminded himself to check it when he got home. It was finally the weekend. Something good was finally coming.

He dared to hope.

Scott got to his first class just as everyone was filing out. His teacher glanced up at him, his mouth a grim line.

"That, Mr. Summers, was due at the beginning of class," Mr. Mullens stated firmly.

"Yeah, I know. It's just…. Look, I'm sorry, ok? I just need a really, really good grade. Is that too much to ask?" Scott's mouth was learning to betray him lately. Why couldn't he just take the damn project?

Mr. Mullens pursed his lips and eyed Scott doubtfully. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Scott, but I'll take the project." Scott gave him a relieved smile. "But only because this is the first time you've ever turned in anything late." He shook his head and took the project from him. "And watch your tone, young man." Scott didn't care. Maybe the day was starting to look up after all.

Scott's next two classes resulted in his almost naps. There wasn't much else to do but listen to his math teacher go on and on about the quadratic formula. English was much the same. Mr. Trick droned on about the irony of irony and why it was so important.

Blah, blah, blah.

Lunch was actually uneventful. The lines were long, the conversations noise, and his friends still wouldn't sit with him. No surprise there.

Scott's curiosity got the better of him this time and he glanced at their table. Jean looked as though she were telling a secret to Kitty, who was leaning in close. Other than that, though, nothing seemed out of place. Minus the fact he was sitting all the way across the room from them. But, hey, things change.

Sometimes, Scott knew, change wasn't always for the better.

The rest of the day was a blur. Thankfully, his locker decided swinging open of its own accord was not a good idea today. Scott got to the parking lot just as Jean's car was leaving, her tires throwing mud covered gravel onto him as she drove by.

A few students laughed at him as they walked by, pointing and whispering. Scott wiped the mud off his glasses as he walked to his own car. His clothes and hair were a dark, dank color and there wasn't much he could do about the mess. Not wanting to get it all over his car seat, he tried brushing off as much mud as possible. It was in vain.

It was a good thing his car seats were leather. Cleaning them... well, he would think about that later.

He dumped his belongings into the back seat of his convertible. A dark rumble echoed across the sky. Scott pulled up the car's roof in case of rain and closed the driver side door. He leaned forward and put the key in the ignition, turning it.

Nothing happened.

"Oh, no," Scott said miserably. "No, no, no, NO! This can_not_ be happening."

Banging his hand on the steering wheel in frustration, Scott turned the key again. Still nothing. He dropped his head onto the steering wheel in defeat and just sat there for a few minutes while his horn blared across the practically empty parking lot.

The day hadn't been half bad. Why couldn't it just stay that way? But no, the world was out to torment him. Half heartedly trying the key again, Scott grit his teeth against the thousands of curses he didn't want to yell. If he had known this would happen, Scott would not have sat his mud-caked self down.

Grabbing his stuff from the backseat, he locked the doors and began walking.

The walk was a long and grueling one. Halfway into it, Scott slowed his walk and shoved his hand in his pocket. He was sore, tired, frustrated, and angry.

Sore from sleeping on his books.

Tired and frustrated from everything that's been going on.

And angry at his friends for giving him the cold shoulder and not explaining why.

He pulled his backpack higher onto his shoulder and looked up at the dark sky. "Is this punishment for something I did? Was it Mystique? Cause I can't say she didn't deserve what she got."

The clap of thunder was his only reply. Maybe he wasn't the only one who was angry.

Scott kicked a pebble and grudgingly trudged home.

To end his bad week, the sky decided it was time for more rain. It unceremoniously pelted cold and gigantic buckets of liquid an hour into his walk. By the time he got home a couple of hours later, he was soaked to the bone. His hair was muddy, sticking to his head like glue, and his stomach growled. Loudly.

Wiping his feet on the mat in front of the doors, because Storm would kill him if he forgot to, he walked into the mansion. There, Scott was immediately met by Logan's crossed arms and tapping foot. The shorter, gruff man didn't spare him a glance before lashing out.

"Where the _hell_ have you been, Kid?" Logan ground out dangerously.

Scott rolled his eyes, his tone passing sarcasm. "I decided to take a walk in the rain. Now, if you'll excuse me, the shower calls."

He tried to push past Logan getting to the stairs, but a finger at his chest stopped him.

"Don't give me sarcasm, Cyke. You're late and you know it. Now, answer the question. Where were you?" The worry had led way to anger.

Scott sighed. At least somebody still cared. "My car wouldn't start and everyone had already left, so I walked home. Happy?" It didn't mean that he was in the mood though.

"No," Logan answered, finally giving him the once over. He raised his eyebrows. "Why didn'tcha ya call? Jean woulda picked ya up."

Scott snorted and flexed his fingers trying to get circulation going again. "Yeah, I'm sure she would've. Can I go now?"

Logan dropped his hand and moved out of his way. Scott made his way up the stairs, not wanting to see Logan's reaction to the clipped conversation. Taking a nice, hot shower, Scott dressed and threw himself onto the bed wearily. It had been a long week and he just wanted to sleep. It didn't matter that he had changed into another pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Scott just needed a moment to rest.

Halfway to blissful unconsciousness, there was a loud knock on the door. Scott jerked awake and turned to see Jean standing in his doorway looking apologetic.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" The red head was biting her lip and nervously pulling at her hair.

Scott ran a hand through his brown hair and sat up quickly. "No, uh, I was just uh, resting my eyes." He ushered with his hands for her to come in. Jean reluctantly stepped forward. "What's up?"

Jean smiled. "Not much, actually." She sighed and looked around the room. Anywhere but at Scott. "I, uh, just came up to tell you that Logan called for a practice session."

Scott raised an eyebrow and stood up. "Now? Why?"

Jean just shrugged and picked at her sweater. "He didn't say."

"Oh. Ok, well, I guess we should go then, huh?" He knew first hand not to keep Logan waiting.

"Yeah."

Scott strode forward and awkwardly led Jean out into the hall. The trip down to the Danger Room was uncomfortably silent. Jean kept avoiding Scott's gaze and he kept wondering why. When they reached the big metallic doors, they slid open without being prompted to and Scott stepped back. The room was dark.

He turned to Jean. "Jean, are you sure that—"

"SURPRISE!" The lights turned on and the whole institute was standing in a party simulated décor. There were even balloons and confetti floating through the air.

Scott turned confused eyes around the room and opened his mouth, stunned. "What's going on?"

Jean hugged him from behind, laughing at his bewilderment. "Happy birthday, Scott!"

"My…. It's my birthday?" he asked, flustered and embarrassed. "You all did this? For me?"

"Ja, of course," Kurt piped up.

"Wha d'ya think we were avoiding you?" Rogue added, her lips quirked.

"Cause you thought I was losing it and you guys finally decided you'd had enough of being my friend," Scott explained lamely, looking down.

"Like, why would we wanna stop being your friend?" Kitty asked, laughing, her ponytail bobbing.

"Everyone was in on it?" Scott questioned, lifting his head and glancing around at the smiling faces.

They all nodded happily, proud of themselves. Only Storm looked uncomfortably guilty. "I am sorry, Scott. I was forced into it." She finally smiled. "Happy birthday." Scott finally understood her earlier visit to his room and the cryptic message.

Professor Xavier and Hank McCoy smiled at him from across the room while Logan nodded at him, a wolfish smirk gracing his face.

Everyone began partying while Scott couldn't think of anything to say and still stood completely dumbstruck. Jean moved in front of him, her eyes sparkling.

"You think we hated you, huh?" Jean stared directly past his glasses and into his eyes. She shrugged, biting her lip, and sighed. "I'm sorry, but it was the only way to keep everything from you. Otherwise… you would've probably figured things out. Being perceptive and all." Her lips quirked in a half smile. "I still can't believe you forgot your own birthday!"

"Well, you also wouldn't believe the week I had." Scott laughed, his bad mood suddenly lifting at the sight of his friends and what they had planned for him.

"Well, you can tell me all about it," Jean encouraged, pulling him into the crowd of dancing teens. "After you've cut your birthday cake."

He grinned at her, feeling euphoric. As he bent over to blow out his birthday cake, his eyes moved over everyone gathered around him. They were his friends, but more importantly, they were his family.

Scott blew out the candles and decided he didn't need to make a wish this year after all.

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End file.
